


Ready Stance

by intermundia



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Cuddling & Snuggling, Enthusiastic Consent, Light D/s, Lightsaber Battles, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sparring, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23919265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intermundia/pseuds/intermundia
Summary: Sometime during the Clone Wars, a very bored Anakin Skywalker asks his old Master to do a little sparring during a long hyperspace flight. Obi-Wan Kenobi agrees, and quickly discovers that he finds his former apprentice far more distracting than usual. The end result of their sparring is more entertaining and consequential than either of them ever expected.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 33
Kudos: 487





	Ready Stance

**Author's Note:**

> This is a PWP. It's not philosophical or anything. Just. Pretty horny.
> 
> As usual, per my AU where Padmé acts like a reasonable woman in AotC, Anakin is not attached.
> 
> I pulled some names and story fragments from Wookiepedia. I am not an expert on Star Wars lore, I just wanted it to be Star Wars-y in the background of my explicit obikin pornography.
> 
> I don't know how to fight with swords. Apologies, etc.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)

“Do you want to spar?”

Obi-Wan looked up from his data pad. “Possibly, do you?”

“I’m so _bored_ ,” Anakin replied, opening and closing all the cabinets in the ship’s small kitchen. “We still have about eleven more hours in hyperspace, you’re just _reading,_ nobody else is here, and there’s nothing to _fix_.” He said the last part like it was the greatest tragedy of all that nothing was broken.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “That is true.” He tried to take a sip of tea, and then frowned at his empty mug. “Perhaps you should be reviewing your mission briefing.”

“I _did_ that already.” Anakin whined. “ _Twice_.”He was out of cabinets to inspect, so he turned around, crossed his arms, and pouted at Obi-Wan instead.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at him and suppressed a smile. “Very well, I’ll quiz you on it.”

“Ugh! No.” Anakin replied quickly, revolted. “That’s not what I want at all.”

“I’ll do it while we spar.” Obi-Wan offered. “Would that be acceptable?”

“That… that would work.” Anakin still looked dubious. “Better than staring at the _kriffing_ wall.”

“I’m flattered.” Obi-Wan said genially as he thumbed off his data pad and dropped it on the table. “I have never before received such a compliment.”

“You’re welcome, old man.” Anakin smiled widely.

Obi-Wan spluttered. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, _old man_ , let’s go spar,” Anakin was bouncing on the ball of his feet. “Please?” His voice was pleading.

Obi-Wan sighed as he stood up. “Very well then, let’s spar, my _very young_ apprentice.”

“ _Obi-Wan._ ” Anakin dragged out his name. “I’m twenty-two. I’m not your apprentice.”

“You will always be my apprentice, _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan said, dragging out his name in return.

For some reason that made a slight blush rise on Anakin’s cheeks. “I know, Master.”

“Let’s go to the cargo bay,” Obi-Wan said, walking his mug to the sink. “It has enough space to move.”

“Yes!” Anakin jumped and bolted out of the room. His boyish enthusiasm made Obi-Wan shake his head and sigh as he followed after, at a far more dignified pace.

The cargo bay was mostly empty, the metal walls and floor exposed, except for a few stacked crates. The overhead lights made it over-bright, so Anakin had only turned on the auxiliary lightstrips on the walls and had left the room relatively dim and full of shadows. It was slightly chilly—there were only two thick doors between them and the vacuum of space.

Obi-Wan leaned against the entryway for a moment, watching as Anakin jogged around the perimeter of the room, warming up his muscles. Obi-Wan noted that Anakin had quickly stripped down to his undershirt and pants, so he imagined Anakin’s chilliness without his robes, tabards, and tunics might actually account for the jogging just as much as his obvious impatience to start.

Obi-Wan’s eyes slid from Anakin’s broad shoulders to his narrow waist. Without his tabards and utility belt on, the natural difference in width was more subtle but somehow more striking. Anakin’s thin undershirt was slate grey, slightly darker than the metal of the walls. It clung to his chest and arms, the sleeves were tight from shoulders to wrists, disappearing under the leather glove on his right arm.

“Would you do a kata for me first?” Obi-Wan asked abruptly, not exactly sure where the impulse was coming from. “I think I haven’t seen you do proper Soresu in years, except when we’re getting shot at, I suppose, but it’s hard to watch your form under blaster fire.”

“If you want to watch, Master.” Anakin stopped jogging and looked at Obi-Wan. He seemed a little flustered. “I suppose I could do that.”

“Good.” Obi-Wan smiled warmly as he entered the room, slowly taking off his robe and draping it over a crate. “We can spar afterwards.”

“You promise?” Anakin’s eyes were begging. “I really want to spar.”

“I promise you,” Obi-Wan said in an appeasing tone. “We will spar, _young one_. Adjust your blade’s power setting down now before we forget and vent the ship.”

Anakin nodded as if relieved and absentmindedly summoned his lightsaber from the ground to his palm with the Force before looking defensively back at Obi-Wan. “That was _not_ a frivolous use of the Force.”

“Oh, most certainly not.” Obi-Wan hopped up and settled into a seated position on a stack of crates, legs dangling, adjusting his blade. He looked up to find Anakin still fiddling with his lightsaber settings. “Ready stance, Padawan?”

“Right,” Anakin said as he moved to the middle of the room. He centered his balance, and breathed deeply. He ignited his lightsaber, the distinctive hum and pale blue light filling the room, and swung the blade around easily—rotating his wrist to enjoy the strange gyroscopic effect that gave the blade of pure energy a kind of friction in the air. The blade stopped sharply as he aligned his body into ready position.

Obi-Wan mused that the thrum of the blade used to be a familiar, comforting sound. He remembered their endless sparring when Anakin was a teen with too much energy. Endless katas. It used to be how Obi-Wan wore Anakin out before even attempting to meditate. The sound was less comforting, now

“Begin.” Obi-Wan said crisply.

Anakin began to move with deliberate slowness through the standard Soresu kata, hitting all of the saber positions cleanly and accurately. Obi-Wan could feel the implicit rhythm, the slow _one-two-three-four_ of his movements, almost as if he could hear his voice echoing the beat.

When Soresu is performed correctly, incoming blaster fire is met with an impenetrable wall of energy. The form depends on tight, efficient movements that expose minimal target areas to blaster bolts, completely covering the body. It is a technical, defensive, patient form—not Anakin’s natural instinct.

The precision in Anakin’s kata was all _learned_ , a product of years of effort, and it was a pleasure for Obi-Wan to watch. Obi-Wan saw his own teachings in every subtle twist of Anakin’s wrist, every slight turn of Anakin’s body. This was _his_ doing too. Thousands of hours of drilling with Anakin had engraved the exact angle of the blade, the exact position of the feet, the exact grip of the hands into Anakin’s muscle memory. It was flawlessly done.

Anakin’s breathing remained steady, his movements slow and fluid. Obi-Wan found it all strangely hypnotic. The flickering and humming blade moving in graceful arcs, the soft shuffling sounds of Anakin’s feet on the floor, the flex and twist of his body. Anakin’s face was a mask of concentration, flushed oddly pink, as he moved through the final sequence. Obi-Wan checked the position of his feet. Perfect.

Anakin returned to the ready stance. “How was that?”

“That was excellent, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said, in a warm, genuine tone. It had been excellent. Anakin looked at him, eyes wide, his blush deepening. Obi-Wan continued, “You’ve even improved since I last saw you. Clearly you have maintained your practice.”

“I’ve tried to!” Anakin said, his eyes lighting up at all the praise. “It’s hard to find time, but having a Padawan helps. Teaching helps.” Obi-Wan smiled back at his pleased expression. Anakin began bouncing on his feet again, twirling his blade. “Can we spar yet?”

“No, not yet.” Obi-Wan said. “I need to see you do it again, but faster.”

Anakin looked suspicious. “I think you’re just trying to wear me out before we spar like you used to do when I had too much energy.”

Obi-Wan knew that was not at all the reason he had wanted to keep watching Anakin move. He laughed anyway, and said: “You caught me.”

“I knew it!” Anakin said, pointing his lightsaber at him, feigning outrage.

“Us _old men_ need all the advantages we can get, right?” Obi-Wan teased lightly, as if the words didn’t cause an unidentifiable ache in his chest.

“Alright, Master, I’ll do it again.” Anakin returned to his ready stance, still looking at Obi-Wan, a cocky grin on his face. “I can beat you even when I’m exhausted.”

Obi-Wan swallowed. Anakin’s eyes were very blue, next to his saber. The radiant light of its blade made Anakin’s skin glow in the shadowy room. He was the only thing Obi-Wan could see. Obi-Wan shook his head, refocusing. “This time you have to answer some questions about the briefing as you go.”

“Fine.” Anakin made a slight adjustment to his foot position. “Let’s do this.” He waited, body vibrating in the ready position, for Obi-Wan to give him the signal.

That fact made Obi-Wan feel oddly warm. He spoke in his familiar crisp tone: “Begin.”

Anakin immediately began to move, repeating the kata much faster this time. The power and grace of his motions caught and held Obi-Wan’s eyes for a long moment before Obi-Wan remembered he was supposed to be asking questions. He smirked. “What planet are we going to?”

Anakin looked at him, not impressed. “Tanaab.” His movements did not stutter. The rhythm of his transitions was rapid and smooth as he shifted his weight from his back foot to his front, wrist twisting the blade sinuously through the air.

Obi-Wan smiled at him. “Where is Tanaab?”

Anakin frowned briefly, eyes darting over to Obi-Wan. “The Tanaab system is in the Inner Rim?” His inflection flicked up at the end, drawing it into a question. He pulled his arm deliberately up for a high parry before rapidly twisting his blade down and around.

Obi-Wan sighed. “We’ve been over this, Anakin. Don’t ask your answer, just tell me what you know.”

“Fine, _Master_.” Anakin stuck out a pink tongue at him defiantly as his foot slid out, and he pivoted slightly to open his hips, the blade spinning smoothly with no interruption despite his annoyance. “It’s on the Perlemian Trade Route.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze had dropped from Anakin’s mouth to follow the motion of his hips. He blinked and moved his eyes back to Anakin’s blade instead. “Yes, and?”

Anakin spun swiftly through a complex sequence of related moves, still managing to hold the correct angle for the blade for optimal defense. He came out of it and breathed out sharply, eyes meeting Obi-Wan’s. “It’s the strategic port to the Hapes Consortium.”

Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin smiled as he returned focus to the kata, his movements having never faltered. Obi-Wan rearranged how he was sitting, drawing his legs up under himself. Anakin’s messy curls fell over his forehead as he turned quickly. Obi-Wan was trying to not stare, and failing. “Why is that?”

Anakin frowned and he swung the blade low. “The only trade route to the Hapes Cluster begins at Tanaab.” He stepped through and turned, parrying high. The turn was sloppy.

“You’re getting off pace, Anakin.” Obi-Wan noted. “Stop rushing.” Anakin scowled and slowed, the rhythm reappearing. Obi-Wan watched him transition cleanly through another complicated segment of the kata before asking, “Where does that trade route end?”

Anakin smirked and looked over at Obi-Wan, disrupting his pivot minutely. “Zeltros.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at the look. “Will there be a Zeltron delegation on Tanaab for the talks?”

“Probably,” Anakin said it like it was something to look forward to. He gracefully transitioned between an attack and a parry, blade snapping into correct position before twirling away.

Obi-Wan asked, “And why will that be a _problem_?”

Anakin laughed, his movement stuttering slightly. “Their ambassadors are always very beautiful women.” He pivoted. “Pink skin and purple hair,” he said. “Curvy.” He was quickly approaching the end of the kata, starting to breathe a little harder. “They emit pheromones that make people…” He spun and smoothly returned back to ready position, holding for a moment before he looked back at Obi-Wan. “Their pheromones make people want to _touch_ each other.”

Obi-Wan nodded, feeling very warm. “Why is that a problem?”

“It’s a diplomatic conference,” Anakin laughed, walking back towards Obi-Wan, still a touch out of breath. “And it will be _distracting_.”

“Correct.” Obi-Wan said, thinking that the way Anakin’s mouth had lingered on the word _distracting_ was _distracting_.

Anakin paused a few paces away and raised a Soresu guard and quirked a smile, pointing two fingers at Obi-Wan. He dipped the end of the blade, an invitation. Anakin’s eyes were dark, playful. Obi-Wan’s breathing was suddenly far too rapid for just sitting—he quickly asked, “For what public reasons are the Jedi attending the conference?”

Anakin held position, waiting, expecting Obi-Wan to use the question as cover for an attack. When Obi-Wan didn’t move, he rolled his eyes and said dutifully, “To supervise a cultural exchange between the isolationist Hapes Consortium and a planet belonging to the Republic.” He flicked his lightsaber again, another invitation to spar.

Obi-Wan nodded and then suddenly jumped down from the crate, and landed lightly, pushing back up to do a Force-assisted flip to land on the other side of Anakin, lightsaber drawn and ignited while in the air. Anakin laughed as he parried Obi-Wan’s aerial attack. Obi-Wan asked from behind him, mockingly: “What kind of cultural exchange?”

Anakin spun neatly around to face him, swiping his blade out in a low arc that Obi-Wan blocked, blades clashing. “I don’t know, some farmers on Tanaab and some scientists from Hapes.” They separated and circled each other. “I didn’t expect you to be using Ataru, Master.”

“What, you thought an _old man_ like me forgot how to fight?” Obi-Wan spun with Force-assisted quickness around and attacked Anakin’s left, before jumping away. “Why are the Hapan scientists important?”

Anakin grimaced. “One of them is an awful former Padawan—” he barely parried another of Obi-Wan’s rapid attacks, huffing with frustration “—who is selling the bioweapon we are _really_ there to intercept.” He abruptly switched into his preferred fighting form of Djem So, using aggressive strikes to push Obi-Wan back. “We don’t know if the Hapans know he’s selling.”

Obi-Wan smirked as Anakin switched to offense. He fell into his preferred Soresu, parrying Anakin’s strong blows again and again as he gave ground. The real sparring had begun, the end of playing around. He asked, breathing slightly harder, “Who is buying the bioweapon?”

Anakin tried hard to get his blade past Obi-Wan’s impassible defense. “That’s what we’re supposed to find out, Master.” He huffed a frustrated breath as they went blade to blade, pushing each other.

Obi-Wan smirked as he unexpectedly gave way, throwing Anakin off balance. Anakin had over-extended himself. Obi-Wan used the opportunity to strike back, and used a complex Makashi offensive sequence that made Anakin scowl at him as he hastily parried the flurry of attacks. Obi-Wan asked, breathlessly: “Who do you suspect will buy the weapon?”

Anakin glowered as they separated, circling each other again. “The _kriffing_ Trade Federation.” He wiped his forehead on his sleeve, keeping his guard up. “They will be there too.”

Obi-Wan feinted left and attacked right, asking “Why is the Trade Federation coming?” Anakin blocked him swiftly, and frowned.

Instead of an immediate reply, Anakin pushed forward on offense again, inundating Obi-Wan with powerful strikes, attempting to move Obi-Wan back while he tried to come up with the right answer. Obi-Wan smirked, and his defense held.

Anakin pulled back before he overextended again. They were both breathing hard, circling each other, looking for openings. Anakin began to answer, “The Trade Federation has financial investments in Tanaab with—” Anakin parried a sneaky attack of Obi-Wan’s and grinned triumphantly. “— _agricultural conglomerates_.”

“Oh _very good_ , Anakin.” Obi-Wan smiled. “You _did_ do the reading.” He attacked again with some rapid Shii-Cho strikes before returning to Soresu defense. “ _Very good_ indeed.” Anakin smiled crookedly at him, and then licked his lips, moving closer, wrist twisting his blade almost lazily around into an offensive position. His eyes were dark and intense, studying Obi-Wan for weakness.

Obi-Wan felt a spike of arousal, eyes still caught on Anakin’s mouth and flushed cheeks. Obi-Wan withdrew sharply, suddenly far, far too hot. He needed to shed layers, he decided, and he needed to shed them immediately. He deactivated his blade, holding up a hand. “Give me a moment, please.” Anakin nodded, standing up straight and catching his breath, absently twirling his blade, eyes still fixed on Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan walked to the edge of room and took off his belt and his tabards, laying them by his robe, moving slowly to calm his racing heart, focusing on steadying his shaky breathing. Trying to remain calm, to not get hard. It was just sparring, with his old Padawan. He was imagining things that weren’t there. He needed to _relax_.

Obi-Wan swallowed, knowing he was losing the battle. He still felt too hot. He stripped down further to match Anakin, and turned back to the fight in just his long-sleeved undershirt and pants. Obi-Wan realized immediately that Anakin had been watching him remove him clothes layer by layer while he paced back and forth, waiting for Obi-Wan to come back.

The intense look hadn’t faded from Anakin’s eyes at all, if anything his gaze had become even darker. _Obi-Wan hadn’t been imagining it._ Obi-Wan’s heart beat faster, he still felt too warm, even after the layers had gone. He licked his lips, and Anakin’s eyes tracked the motion before flicking back up and meeting Obi-Wan’s in a question of readiness.

Obi-Wan swallowed and pulled in a long, steady breath before nodding and reigniting his lightsaber. Anakin smiled wolfishly as Obi-Wan stepped forward again and moved his blade up into a guard position. Obi-Wan involuntarily smiled back as he began shifting his feet to maintain position. He began waiting for Anakin to attack to the left, as he usually did.

Anakin stopped pacing abruptly, and attacked swiftly to the left, causing Obi-Wan to sigh dramatically and roll his eyes. Anakin huffed out a defiant laugh as their blades connected, flashing as they fought. “You were never going to strike first, Obi-Wan, I had to do _something_.” Anakin said, attacking high.

Obi-Wan shrugged as he parried, his face in an unrepentant smirk at Anakin’s predictability. As Anakin disengaged, Obi-Wan asked, his voice lower than before, “Why will our interactions with the Hapans be important, Anakin?”

Anakin struck again, blades clashing. “Well, Obi-Wan,—” another attack, neatly blocked, “—the Hapans might be opening their borders, after a long time.”

Obi-Wan continued to defend cleanly, and pushed into Anakin’s space, locking their blades together. “How long?” Obi-Wan asked, breathing hard. “How long have the borders been closed?”

Anakin pushed back hard with his blade, keeping them locked, his gaze on Obi-Wan’s face. “I don’t know, Master, a thousand years?”

Obi-Wan scoffed at him, reading the look in Anakin’s dark eyes, and made up his mind to end the fight early. He executed a series of movements with Force-assisted speed that twisted Anakin’s blade out of his hand and spun an elbow into Anakin’s chest as Obi-Wan swept his legs out from under him. Anakin fell back hard, and Obi-Wan fell on top, kneeling over him. Obi-Wan held his lightsaber to Anakin’s neck and said, voice husky and low: “Closer to three thousand, actually.”

Anakin blushed, eyes fluttering closed, and he whispered, “ _Three_ thousand.” He sighed and opened his eyes, looking up, seeking Obi-Wan’s approval. “The borders have been closed for a _really_ long time.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan moved his lightsaber a bit closer to Anakin’s throat. “They have been.” Anakin swallowed. Obi-Wan peered into his eyes. “Do you yield?”

Anakin continued to look up at him, pupils blown, mouth open as he breathed hard. He closed it abruptly as he swallowed again, and then whispered, “Solah.”

Obi-Wan deactivated his blade and set it aside, maintaining eye contact, unable to look away, unable to move away, unable to stop breathing in the scent of Anakin—sweat, soap, something else, indefinable and addictive.

The moment stretched out, their bodies so close, the room hushed and shadowy without the flickering and crashing of their blades. The entire world collapsed to be just the two of them, breathing hard, pressed against the floor, so very, very, close.

Obi-Wan felt proud, he felt possessive, he felt a vast number of other things that certainly violated the Code, and he just couldn’t seem to care. Anakin’s voice saying _agricultural conglomerates_ echoed in his head. “You did well, Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured, eyes looking for Anakin’s approval too. Obi-Wan’s hand smoothed the curls back off Anakin’s damp forehead. “That was all very well done.”

“Thank you, Master.” Anakin’s voice was barely audible. “Will…” he swallowed and tried again, slightly louder. “Will you… can you…” He reached a hand up to grasp Obi-Wan’s shirt and pull him closer. “Can we?” His eyes were dark, his meaning clear.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan murmured, fingers reaching down to lightly stroke Anakin’s scar, touching the soft skin of his face.

Anakin’s eyes widened and his lips parted. “Really?”

Obi-Wan gave him a small smile, pressing his thumb lightly on Anakin’s plush bottom lip. “Why did you ask for something if you didn’t expect to get it, Padawan?”

“Because I wanted it anyway, Master.” Anakin said, his lip moving under Obi-Wan’s finger in a caress. Anakin pulled harder on Obi-Wan’s shirt, bringing him closer. “I really wanted it.”

“And you wanted me to give it to you?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice surprising himself with its roughness. He pressed his thumb down on Anakin’s bottom lip until it slipped inside his mouth. Anakin closed his lips around it, and sucked it in further. Obi-Wan pressed down on his tongue, other fingers curling to hold his jaw, tilting his face up. “Is that what you wanted?”

Anakin hummed and tried to nod, sucking harder, his eyes begging. Obi-Wan released his hold and slipped his thumb back out, moving back and standing up. He looked down at Anakin who was still panting, eyes wide. “Not here, Anakin.” Anakin pouted, slumping back, resigned.

“Not on a metal floor, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin raised his eyebrows. “Get up.” Anakin hurried to obey, rising to his feet.

“Where, Obi-Wan?”

“Where do you think, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked. Anakin raised an eyebrow, as if he had imagined a few different places. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Go to your cabin, get on the bed.” Anakin nodded, his smile growing wide. “Go.”

Obi-Wan watched him leave, trying to collect himself. He would not lose control. _Not yet._ He was already achingly hard, and had been for awhile. He cracked his neck and began to follow after Anakin, grabbing the small medipack attached to the wall and bringing it too.

Anakin’s cabin was small, his bed narrow. He was sitting on the edge, his leg bouncing, hands tapping, eyes watching the door. When Obi-Wan appeared, he gave a sigh of relief. “I never thought you would, Master.”

“Never thought I would what, Anakin?” He moved closer, tossing the medipack on the bed and coming to stand between Anakin’s spread knees. Anakin swallowed at his sudden proximity, spreading his legs wider so Obi-Wan could come even closer. Obi-Wan filled the opened space, and reached down a hand to cup Anakin’s face, palm on his cheek, this thumb stroking gently along the bottom of his scar. He asked again, “Never thought I would what?”

“Touch me, Master.” Anakin’s eyes were pleading. “I never thought you would touch me.” He pressed his face against Obi-Wan’s hand. “I’ve wanted you to.”

“I had no notion you did.” Obi-Wan said, using his other hand to comb through Anakin’s curls, pushing them back off his forehead, fingers getting tangled, holding on tightly. Anakin whimpered. “I’m an _old man_ , remember?”

“I was just trying to get you to fight me.” Anakin admitted, his face sheepish. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not.” Anakin reached a tentative hand out and grabbed at the fabric of Obi-Wan’s pant leg. “You’re not.”

Obi-Wan hummed deliberatively, moving his face closer. “I suppose you can make it up to me.”

“How?” Anakin looked eager, eyes flicking between Obi-Wan’s. “Please, how?”

“I have some ideas.” Obi-Wan said quietly. He used his grip on Anakin’s hair to tilt his head back, crushing his lips against Anakin’s mouth, finally, finally, kissing him deeply. Anakin let out a tiny sound of happiness and kissed him back, trying to press himself closer. Obi-Wan used the hand in his hair to hold him, keeping him in place. He broke the kiss. “I think you should be still.”

“Yes, Master.” Anakin said, panting. “Alright.” He relaxed in Obi-Wan’s hold, allowing Obi-Wan to pull his head further back, exposing his long neck. Obi-Wan smiled in approval and Anakin swallowed reflexively. Obi-Wan’s eyes followed Anakin’s throat as it moved. He slid his hand away from Anakin’s scar, stroking down his cheek and across his jaw, brushing his thumb over his lips and then moving his hand down his neck, following the motion of Anakin’s swallow. Obi-Wan slid his fingers and palm down against the sensitive skin, feeling for Anakin’s racing pulse.

Anakin held himself still, allowing Obi-Wan to stroke his face and hold his neck, trembling slightly. “Very good,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin’s eyes lit up at the praise, whimpering slightly. Obi-Wan’s smile grew crooked when he realized how _very_ much Anakin liked it when he said kind things. He pulled Anakin’s hair lightly and squeezed his neck gently—just enough pressure to hold him steady, keep him in place—and spoke again, even lower. “You look very good like this.”

Anakin’s breath was shaky. “Thank you, Master.” Anakin said, his eyes wide and his tone grateful. “I want to be good.” He then blushed deeper, like he admitted something shameful.

“You are very good, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said warmly. “You were perfect.” Anakin’s eyes fluttered shut and he exhaled. Obi-Wan pulled again on his hair, the hand on his neck squeezing gently. “What do you want me to do?”

“Will you… can you…” Anakin seemed to be struggling for words, his eyes begging Obi-Wan to just _take_. Obi-Wan didn’t, and so Anakin kept trying, “I want… I need…”

“You’ll have to be specific.” Obi-Wan said, tugging on his hair. “I won’t move forward unless you tell me to, Anakin.” Anakin looked at him wide-eyed, panting. “You also have to wait for me to approve before you move forward too. That’s the rule.”

Anakin let out a small moan. His eyes searched Obi-Wan’s face, and breathed deeply, preparing himself to speak. Obi-Wan smiled gently at his effort. Anakin asked, “Can I… Can I touch your beard?” Obi-Wan laughed. All that preparation, for _that_ question. “I’ve just always really, really wanted to.” Anakin admitted with an embarrassed smile. “Can I please?” 

“Yes, dear one.” Obi-Wan said. “You can touch my beard.”

Anakin beamed at him. He tried to move his head forward but Obi-Wan held it in place, maintaining his grip on Anakin’s hair and Anakin’s neck. He liked him where he was. Anakin groaned when Obi-Wan held him fast, eyes sliding closed before reopening, filled with desire. He asked instead, “Can you kiss me again?”

“Since you asked,” Obi-Wan said, closing in. “Yes,” he whispered against Anakin’s lips before closing the distance again, kissing him gently. Anakin moaned and his left hand came up immediately and stroked Obi-Wan’s cheek, fingers sliding and feeling his beard, scratching slightly. Anakin hummed in satisfaction and Obi-Wan smiled as he kissed him, letting him touch his face, enjoying the sweetness of it.

Anakin broke the kiss. “Can I ask for other things as well now?” Obi-Wan laughed. Of course Anakin’s bashfulness only lasted as long as his insecurity. Now that he knew he could get what he wanted, Obi-Wan expected him to be a lot less shy. “Can we be wearing less clothes?” There is was.

Obi-Wan let go of his hold on Anakin’s hair and neck, causing a small whimper of disappointment. Obi-Wan smiled at the noise. He wasn’t ready for Anakin to be bossy, yet. There was one more thing to do. “Please take off your glove.”

Anakin looked at him, startled. “What?”

“Take off your glove,” Obi-Wan said, his voice giving no room for questioning. “I want to see your hand.”

“You do?” Anakin looked worried and confused. “Why?”

“Because it’s yours, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said. “Take it off.” When Anakin still hesitated, Obi-Wan murmured gently, “It’s alright, Padawan. You don’t have to worry. I want to see it, I want to see all of you. Please be good for me, Anakin, and take it off.”

“Al-alright.” Anakin said, hesitantly reaching for the buckles on his forearm, undoing the fastenings first. His left hand was shaking slightly, his eyes fixed down on his task. He began to gently pull the top of each finger and thumb, before beginning to slide the glove off slowly. He looked up anxiously when the metal began to show, and Obi-Wan smiled at him encouragingly. Anakin took a deep breath and pulled it the rest of the way off, his metal fingers clenching and unclenching under Obi-Wan’s gaze.

“Very good, Anakin.” Obi-Wan kissed him again, a reassurance and a promise. He reached down and held the metal hand. It was cool, smooth, and hard, and the fingers twitched when he touched them before they curled around his hand, grasping it lightly. Obi-Wan squeezed back tightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re… you’re welcome, Master.” Anakin looked pleased but still a hint anxious, so Obi-Wan decided to begin to make himself vulnerable too. He let go of Anakin’s hand and reached up to pull off his shirt, tossing it aside. Anakin’s eyes scanned his chest, fixing on his nipples and the trail of hair leading down into his pants. They had seen each other a thousand times, but never like this: Obi-Wan was still standing between his knees, Anakin’s face was so close and was looking down. Obi-Wan swallowed.

“Can I touch you, Master?” Anakin asked, voice shaky as he shot a look up, their eyes meeting. Obi-Wan liked the way Anakin was looking up at him, like everything depended on his answer—all of Anakin’s pleading contained in just one wide-eyed glance. It made Obi-Wan impossibly harder, the blood leaving his brain making him feel almost dizzy with how much he liked it.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, his low voice making Anakin lick his lips. “How do you want to touch me?”

“Can I…” Obi-Wan noticed the bashfulness was back. Anakin’s eyes were fixed back down on the outline of Obi-Wan’s hard cock that was just slightly visible through the heavy wool of Obi-Wan’s pants. “Can I take these off?” His hands fluttered up and then quickly moved back down, waiting for permission. Obi-Wan smiled at that.

“Yes, Anakin,” he said gently. “You may take them off.” Anakin immediately reached out, unfastening the pants with shaking fingers and pulled them down, Obi-Wan’s hard cock bounced up as it was released. Anakin’s eyes widened and focused intently on the cock that was so very near his mouth. Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s heavy breathing on the sensitive skin.

Obi-Wan swiftly moved back several paces, and slid off his boots so he could take off his pants all the way.

Anakin watched move back and kicked his own boots off. He suddenly blurted out, “Master, can I suck your cock?” Obi-Wan looked up, startled.

“Not if you want me to fuck you, Padawan.” The answer fell out of his mouth, before he had a chance to consider what to say, a chance to reconsider or edit his instinctual reaction.

The words made Anakin gasp in a shaky breath before starting to babble very quickly. “Will you? Would you? Please? Can you do that? I would really like it if we could do that, I’m—”

Obi-Wan cut him off with a laugh. “Yes, alright? I can and I will.” Anakin smiled at him shyly, his eyes flickering over Obi-Wan’s naked body. “I need to know if you’ve ever been with a man before, Anakin.”

“N-no. Not really.” Anakin admitted. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I’ve…” Obi-Wan looked at him pointedly when he trailed off. Anakin clarified, “By myself.”

“I’m afraid that doesn’t _quite_ count,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin pouted. “That’s fine, Anakin. We have time to do it right.” Obi-Wan looked at the medipack and grimaced. “Almost right. I don’t have anything except bacta for lube.”

“Does that work?” Anakin asked, curiously. “I think I heard Kix complaining that he had to keep it locked up.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan laughed. “I suppose he might. It works well enough.” He looked Anakin over, sitting on the bed, waiting for him, watching him. “You’re wearing a lot of clothes, Anakin.”

“Am I?” Anakin pulled his gaze away from Obi-Wan’s cock, looking at himself absently. “Oh.” He reached down and pulled off his shirt. Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked over his shoulders and his waist, again, admiring the expanse of golden skin, the strength of his chest and arms, his pink nipples, the lean muscle of his stomach, the faint hair that led down into his pants. The flush on Anakin’s face had spread as Obi-Wan’s eyes lingered on his body.

“Very good, Anakin.” Anakin breathed shakily, relaxing minutely. “Do you want to take off your pants?” Anakin nodded and unfastened them before standing up and sliding them off, baring himself before Obi-Wan too. Obi-Wan’s eyes took in Anakin’s long, hard cock and he looked back up to give a vulnerable-looking Anakin a reassuring smile. “Good.” Anakin swallowed and stood very still, his eyes asking Obi-Wan for instruction, asking for guidance, desperately asking for what to do next. Their old training bond in the Force prickled, as if the look alone was enough to bring it back to life. Obi-Wan breathed heavily, feeling dizzy at what that look implied, what that look allowed. “Sit back on the bed, _Padawan_.” The word had become charged.

“Yes, _Master_ ,” Anakin replied in relief, the word answering back, giving Obi-Wan permission to assume the role, to let the words’ meanings be changed, updated, made anew. “Please, Master, what now?”

“Are you sitting?” Obi-Wan asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I distinctly recall just requesting that you sit down.”

“Oh!” The words processed in Anakin’s brain and he smiled apologetically. “Right. Sorry, Master.” He sat back down. “What should I do now?”

“Nothing, for the moment.” Anakin looked uncertain. Obi-Wan walked forward and stood between Anakin’s legs, moving closer as Anakin spread them further. “Can I suck _your_ cock, Padawan?” The silence in the room was very loud at that moment, the sound of Anakin’s gasp almost echoing, the sound of blood rushing in ears and heavy breathing.

“Please, Master.” Anakin’s eyes were huge. “Yes.” 

Obi-Wan nodded, smiling slightly. His eyes traced Anakin’s cock as he sunk to his knees, keeping his mouth several inches away from the head. He rested his hands gently on the inside of Anakin’s thighs to spread his legs apart even further. Once he had arranged his legs where he wanted Anakin to keep them, he pushed on them in a nonverbal _Stay Here_. Anakin whimpered and kept his legs open.

Obi-Wan then began to slide his palms up Anakin’s inner thighs, feeling the soft skin and the strength of his legs, thumb pressing in lightly, hands moving up all the way as Anakin whimpered and trembled. Obi-Wan’s right hand then slid to wrap his fingers in a loose circle the base of Anakin’s cock, the left hand sliding under to gently cup his balls. Anakin whimpered again at the touch, closing his legs a fraction before meeting Obi-Wan’s eyes, who had looked up sharply. At the eye contact Anakin groaned, and his already hard cock jumped.

“Are you alright, Padawan?” Obi-Wan asked, a bit of humor threading his tone.

“Ye-yes, Master.” Anakin nodded. “I am alright.”

“Good,” Obi-Wan said, keeping eye contact and speaking lowly as he gently stroked his finger along the vein on the bottom side of Anakin’s cock. “I want you to know the purpose of this now is to make you come.” Anakin whimpered at the tone of his voice, and then he moaned as Obi-Wan let his fingers rest just underneath the head of Anakin’s cock, rubbing gently before sliding his palm around and grasping the head, lightly squeezing. Anakin’s hips jerked, slightly, at the pressure.

As he tenderly stroked Anakin's cock, Obi-Wan continued in his low, rapid murmur: “The reason that I want you to come is so that you will be relaxed enough for me to open you up. Do you know what I’m going to do to you if you’re open enough?” Anakin whined and shook his head. “If you’re open enough, Anakin, I can fuck you.” Anakin moaned and his hips jerked more. Obi-Wan took his hands off Anakin’s cock to brace his legs open. Anakin whimpered at the loss of contact, and then whimpered again louder when Obi-Wan pushed his legs open hard at the same time that he enveloped the head of Anakin’s cock with his mouth. Obi-Wan licked his tongue along the slit and tasted Anakin’s precome, his own cock jerking untouched at the taste. He pulled his mouth off.

“Does that all make sense to you, Padawan?” Obi-Wan asked. As Anakin nodded at him fervently and whined, Obi-Wan sat back slightly and absently summoned the medipack to his hand with the Force. “Very good. You’re doing well, Anakin.” Anakin’s eyes closed and he sighed.

“Thank you, Master.” Anakin said as he shifted slightly and made sure his legs were still open. “I liked that.” His blush deepened. “I mean I’m happy. Happy this is happening. Are you happy, Master? Are we ok, Master?” Obi-Wan looked up sharply from where he was extricating a pouch of bacta. 

“Yes, Padawan. You are good; we are good.” Anakin huffed out a breath, looking into his eyes, seeking more reassurance. Obi-Wan smiled warmly up at him, tearing the bacta pouch open. “We are good. I’m here.” He squeezed some bacta into his palm and coated his fingers, before leaning back down, mouth next to Anakin’s cock. “I’m here.” Obi-Wan sucked saliva into his mouth and then took the head of Anakin’s cock back into his mouth gently, pushing more in and spreading the wetness down, letting Anakin’s cock slide on his tongue and hit the back of his throat.

“Oh!” Anakin’s hips jerked minutely before he caught himself. “That’s… that feels really good, Master.” Obi-Wan hummed knowingly and Anakin whimpered. Obi-Wan sucked gently as he pulled his head back, taking his mouth off of Anakin’s cock before he moved his bacta-covered fingers back to touch Anakin, gently coating his ass with the slippery gel. Anakin’s hips jerked, dramatically, and Obi-Wan smirked up at him, pleased to have avoided getting choked on Anakin’s cock.

“Can I touch you here more, Padawan?” Obi-Wan checked, just to be sure. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes, yes it is, I do want that, yes! Thank you, yes.” Anakin tried to cut off his own babbling, and Obi-Wan smiled at him. He moved his fingers in a circle, rubbing gently and Anakin’s eyes fluttered shut. Obi-Wan reached out and grasped the base of Anakin’s cock and pressed one finger slowly inside the tight ring of muscle. Anakin let out a loud moan, and Obi-Wan stroked his cock with a bacta-lubricated palm and continued to press his finger inside, easing in ever so slowly as his fist pumped more and more rapidly, twisting the head of Anakin’s cock gently.

Anakin came without warning, but not to Obi-Wan's surprise. Anakin let out a rough groan and tightened up, pleasure spiking through him, and Obi-Wan leaned forward quickly, sucking his cock back into his mouth to catch the come as it came, swallowing it down. _Less mess_ , he thought and wanted to laugh. He kept his finger still in Anakin’s ass, letting him clench around it as he came. Anakin whimpered and Obi-Wan pulled his mouth off Anakin’s sensitive cock, wiping the mouth with the back of his free hand. He looked up and met Anakin’s pleasured-filled, incredulous eyes.

“Very good, Padawan.” Obi-Wan said, pulling his finger free. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” Anakin said faintly, a grin spreading on his face. “I’m great!” Obi-Wan laughed at his expression, at the unfocused happiness in his eyes. “This is the best!”

“Good,” Obi-Wan said. “That’s very good to hear.” The bacta was slippery and sticky on his fingers. He raised an eyebrow up at Anakin. “Do you want to keep going, or are you good?”

“Oh, yes, keep going, please!” Anakin said, like it was completely obvious. “Yes, Master. I want to know. Will you show me?”

“Yes, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said, standing up and moving back. “I can do that.” Anakin smiled up at him, now. “Please turn around and get on your hands and knees.” Anakin processed the words for a moment and then scooted back on the narrow bunk and turned over, face towards the wall. Obi-Wan stepped behind him, running his clean hand down Anakin’s spine to hold on to his neck, the bacta making him glide, reaching his neck and holding it, pushing it down gently. Anakin sunk to his elbows, arching his back, rolling his hips forward, just as Obi-Wan wanted. “Perfect, Padawan, just like that.” He ran a hand back up the curved spine, pressing to keep it curved as he used the other to grab his legs and spreading them a further.

Once Obi-Wan was satisfied with his position, he pressed his finger back into Anakin, less tentatively this time, the more relaxed muscle making it slightly easier. He made a thoughtful face, pulled the finger out, Force summoning the bacta packet up to his hand and spreading more on his fingers, before pressing it in again, even smoother. Anakin moaned. “Very good, Padawan. You’re taking one really well. Would you like another one?”

“Yes, please, Master.” Anakin said, turning his head to look back as best he could. “Obi-Wan. Please.”

“Alright, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said, pressing in two fingers, gently, working them in, waiting for Anakin to adjust. He scissored them, opening Anakin up, pushing in, finding and pressing on a spot that made Anakin cry out. Obi-Wan began fucking Anakin with them gently, making him ready. The process was slow, and Anakin was whining and shuddering by the time Obi-Wan felt ready to put a third finger in, stretching and opening him until he was fucking into him with three fingers gently and then less gently.

“That’s very good, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said roughly. “I think you are close to ready. I’m going to take these out now, and check in with you.” Anakin whimpered, his face pressed into the bed.

When Obi-Wan removed his fingers, Anakin’s head jolted up and he looked back in alarm. “What?” He saw Obi-Wan giving him an amused eyebrow and smiled sheepishly. “Did you say something?”

“How are you doing, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, surveying his face.

“Really, really, good. Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s eyes were serious, his face flushed and his breathing unsteady. “I am good.” He nodded seriously. “Very good.”

“Yes, you are.” Obi-Wan smiled at him. He looked at Anakin and then at the bed, deliberating. He murmured, “I’m going to get on the bed and lay back, and I want you to sit on me and then ride me. Is that alright? That way you control everything, and you can go as slow as you want. It will be up to you.”

Anakin had been nodding along in agreement from almost the second he started speaking. “Yes. That sounds good, Obi-Wan. Let’s do that.” He made room for Obi-Wan to join him on the bed, sifting to get on top on him once he lay down. They looked each other in the eyes seriously, acknowledging what they were doing. “Are you ready, Obi-Wan?”

“Are you, Anakin?” Obi-Wan’s eyes were gentle, despite his painfully hard cock. “We can be done.” Anakin shook his head, reaching over for the medikit for another pouch of bacta, ripping it open and squeezing most of it out on to his palm, holding his hand near Obi-Wan’s cock, checking his eyes one more time for permission, asking to touch. “Yes, Anakin. Please.”

Anakin coated Obi-Wan’s cock in bacta, and then moved up, slowly lining himself up, rubbing the head of Obi-Wan’s cock against his slick entrance, and smiling down when Obi-Wan groaned. Anakin swallowed and began to lower himself down, eyes opening wide as the tip of Obi-Wan’s cock pressed into him. Obi-Wan made a noise deep in his throat when Anakin paused, adjusting. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything other than the tight, hot feeling surrounding the head of his cock. It was impossible, everything had narrowed to that point. He breathed shakily, keeping his hands at his sides, keeping his hips still. He had control.

When Anakin began to slide lower, Obi-Wan forced open his eyes to watch Anakin’s face, which was a mask of concentration as he lowered himself down, biting his lip, a slight frown on his forehead. Anakin stopped when he felt completely full, when he was sure he had taken the whole thing, and held there, letting himself relax into and understand how he was feeling. It was so intense, so different, it was overwhelming. Obi-Wan watched his face as he processed his feelings, one after another, and when finally Anakin’s eyes opened and looked down with intent, Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin’s hips and fucked up into him, _finally_ , getting Anakin to take his entire cock. Anakin moaned loudly, taking more than he thought he ever could.

He positioned himself over Obi-Wan, spread his legs and held himself up, and whispered, “Please, Obi-Wan. Please do that again, please fuck me, please.” So Obi-Wan did, holding tight on Anakin’s hips, holding him still as he fucked him. He was losing himself in the slick, hot, tight feeling, the feeling of Anakin’s body, listening to Anakin’s low blissed-out voice muttering, “ _I didn’t know it could feel like this, I didn’t know it could feel this good, I can’t believe it feels like this_.” Obi-Wan smiled, and fucked him harder, his hips slapping up into Anakin’s, making Anakin whine.

Obi-Wan pulled Anakin’s face down, and kissed him, licking into his mouth and sucking on his lip as fucked up into him hard, losing himself in _Anakin_. He broke the kiss and leaned his head back and looked down, watching his cock move in and out of Anakin’s body. “You’re incredible, Anakin, you’re doing so well, taking me so well.” Obi-Wan’s voice was low, and Anakin moaned to hear him speak.

Obi-Wan felt like he was close, so very close he could barely stand it. “I’m…” He looked up and met Anakin’s eyes. He felt the connection almost physically like a shock, their eye contact was electric. Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin’s hips and fucked up into him, hard, one final time and came, filling Anakin up deep inside with his come, his eyes rolling back and moaning. It felt like he was coming forever, the pleasure radiating and intense. 

When he opened his eyes, he saw Anakin peering down at him fascinated like he had just learned a secret, and as happy as if he had won a million credits. Obi-Wan’s lips twitched as he studied Anakin’s enthralled face, reflexively mirroring back the same happiness that he saw. They smiled at each other, and Obi-Wan said, “As I’m absolutely certain you’re aware—” his voice was lazy and sounded slightly intoxicated, and Anakin’s smile grew even bigger as he heard each word until he was absolutely beaming, “—I came.” Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin’s hips once more time before he pulled out, overstimulated and sensitive.

Obi-Wan used the Force to summon his shirt from the floor and cleaned up a bit of the mess. Anakin smiled as Obi-Wan wiped off his hands. Once they were relatively clean, Anakin collapsed down, his weight mostly on Obi-Wan’s chest, and Obi-Wan huffed out a breath in protest. They lay together, spent, for a long time, Obi-Wan’s hand absently stroking down Anakin’s back. “We need to use the ‘fresher, Padawan.”

Anakin groaned and shifted slightly, agreeing “I know, I really do, but I’m just so tired.”

“Me too, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, “but if we don’t go now, we’ll never go. So…” Obi-Wan pinched him. Anakin yelped and recoiled.

“Fine! Alright. Let’s go.” Anakin said, standing up slowly, very aware of all his muscles and where he felt aches and strains. He moved steadily over to the small ‘fresher across the hall, calling back “C’mon, Master.” Obi-Wan got up and followed him, reluctantly, grabbing sleepwear.

After they were clean, Obi-Wan brought Anakin to his own cabin to sleep, laying down first and gesturing for Anakin to come join him. Anakin flopped on top him, a mirror of the position they had left. “Anakin!” Obi-Wan huffed out in protest. Anakin just lay, covering him. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around him, and held him there. The quiet was calm, and peaceful. Their heart rates were back to normal, their breathing slow and steady. Obi-Wan felt relaxed, for the first time in years.

“Do you think it could be the Sith who wants the bioweapon?” Anakin asked, quietly. “Not just the Neimoidians?”

“That’s certainly possible, Anakin.” Obi-Wan sighed and held him tighter, fighting a yawn. “The Trade Federation does apparently work with Dooku, so the Sith will have access to it.”

“The weapon destroys sentience, turns people to slaves.” Anakin said, his voice sleepy and quiet, but his tone still troubled. “Master Yoda said that the Sith Empire was built on slavery.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan grimaced. “It’s truly an awful device. We have to stop it. ”

“We will.” Anakin’s low voice was certain. “We will not let them have it. They can’t have it.”

“No,” Obi-Wan sighed. “They certainly cannot.” With effort he shifted Anakin so he wasn’t laying completely on top of him anymore, and was curled against his side, legs still tangled. “We will get it done, Padawan.”

“Thank you, Master.” Anakin nestled his head into the hollow between Obi-Wan’s neck and shoulder, nuzzling closer, pushing his nose and mouth against Obi-Wan’s throat. He spoke against the skin. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in tight. “Go to sleep. We have hours in hyperspace before we really have to worry about all of this.”

“Yes, Master.” Anakin said, beginning to sound drowsy. Obi-Wan smiled and breathed in the scent of Anakin’s hair. Anakin muttered, “I also hope we don’t offend the Hapans.”

“Worry about it later, Anakin.” He pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Rest now.” Anakin’s answering murmur was soft, his breathing grew more steady, and he drifted to sleep. Obi-Wan smiled.

In the middle of the war, Obi-Wan mused, this was as close to true happiness as he was ever going to get. He kissed Anakin’s head again, and breathed in the scent of his hair, trying to etch the moment into his memory. It was certainly a much, much different way than he had expected to spend the flight to Tanaab. He definitely did not mind.

**Author's Note:**

> They proceed to Tanaab, save the day, and live happily ever after <3
> 
> jk i wish
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed, I had fun writing it!
> 
> Say hi on my [tumblr](https://intermundia.tumblr.com)!


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